


A Brighter Dawn

by Welsper



Category: Final Fantasy XII
Genre: Future Fic, M/M, Many years into the future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 20:16:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21042149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Welsper/pseuds/Welsper
Summary: “I wanted to protect you the same way. But look at me. All these years, and this does not fit me still.”





	A Brighter Dawn

“Is that my armor?” Noah asks as he wanders into the room flooded with the warm light of the evening sun. It reflects off the dark metal of his Judge’s plate, the one Larsa is now putting on.

“This is rather heavy,” Larsa complains and Noah has to smile. “Help me with that, will you?”

Larsa’s long hair spills out over his shoulders down his back and Noah carefully brushes it aside to reach a clasp and tighten it. Even in adulthood, he had never quite reached Noah’s size, and the suit is a little loose on him.

Larsa does not wear armor as a habit. Says he does not want to look martial, does not want to make people think Archadia is only waiting to set out on the warpath again. It had earned Larsa an arrow in the shoulder once but still he had refused even with Noah screaming at him.

The steel looks good on him.

“What brings this on?” Noah asks as he straightens the cape. It would not do for a Judge Magister to look crumpled now, would it?

“When I was younger, I wanted to become a Judge. Surely you remember?”

Noah chuckles at that. It was so long ago, but he still has memories of this fearless child running between the legs of lumbering Magisters. He might have nearly stepped on him once or twice.

“I was quite upset when I was told I could not become one,” Larsa said. “To that boy back then, you were the most impressive. I thought nothing could hurt you, nothing would keep you from protecting the Empire and its citizens. That is what I wanted to do to, to protect people. I wanted someone to look up to me the same way I looked to you and feel safe.”

Larsa reaches out and touches Noah’s cheek. The leather is cool upon his skin and Noah leans into the caress. They are not often like this, taken by their duties and missions. To rule an Empire is a task that leaves little time for what they have.

“I wanted to protect _you_ the same way. But look at me. All these years, and this does not fit me still,” Larsa sighs.

Noah places his own hand over Larsa’s.

“It need not.”

There are no wars now, and Noah almost misses them. The new Judges, they mete out their rulings less on the streets and the battlefields, but in courtrooms and Noah does not teach them the sword as much as he teaches them the law. They are different now in other ways too, changing with the way Larsa changes House Solidor and thus the Empire. One of Noah’s best Judges is a Viera.

He wonders what it would have been like, serving this Larsa clad in steel and plate and swords. What it would be like to fight with him side by side, to tear through flesh and bone and to conquer and to destroy. To burn the world in the name of Archadia’s glory until such a day when this behemoth of an empire finally collapsed.

And Larsa sees the glint in his eyes and he must understand. He leans forward and his kiss is soft and gentle, as Larsa is, though that is no weakness. It is demanding and sure, as Larsa is, and Noah would always give him everything.

“I heard you got hurt on the Phon Coast,” Larsa says with worry in his voice. He worries so much, Noah hates to add more of that burden. The Judges were supposed to ease the Emperor’s life, not give him more trouble.

“It’s nothing,” he says but Larsa slides his fingers down his neck to his shoulder and his arm and takes his bandaged hand in his. Larsa raises it to his lips and kisses the fingers carefully. If it stings a little, Noah does not let it be seen.

“You always say that.”

Noah does not answer. Larsa has seen all his scars, all his wounds, tended to some of them himself.

“Sometimes I wonder if it were easier like this,” Larsa says and draws the Chaos Blade.

“Away with the diplomacy and the compromises and the talks. Steel upon steel, as House Solidor has always done. Subjugation.”

Noah reaches out and closes his hand around Larsa’s on the hilt of the blade. He takes it from him and Larsa does not protest.

“But that is not you,” Noah says softly and Larsa smiles at him.

He wonders what it would have been like, serving a Larsa that was his brother’s likeness, ruling with force and destruction, allowing no question and no quarter. Wonders if he would even be here today, if any of them would be here today or if the world would have long ceased, all in ruins and ashes, obliterated by the fury of a man Larsa might have become.

And there had been a time when Noah wanted nothing more than to destroy, the world and himself and all the pain that came with it. But that had faded over the years. Maybe it had faded the moment he had taken his swords in hand for this man, chosen to follow his heart.

The world had seen enough of destruction and war.

Noah is glad that he serves his Larsa.


End file.
